Nzambi
by dragoncymru
Summary: Something is stirring in the Louisiana bayous - something very hungry. The Doctor returns top Earth to meet a new friend. But can he and Amy survive a confrontation with an undead horror in the swamps? Another Season 2 'TARDIS Adventure'.
1. Chapter 1

**Prologue**

The bayou waited and watched as patient as an open grave.

The young man's shirt clung heavily to his dark skin, channelling rivers of sweat down his back as he poled the pirogue further into the swamp. A heavy mist floated over the surface of the water and hung in the air, transforming the trees and vegetation into nightmarish shapes. There was a small splash from his right, and the man looked to see the unmistakeable shape of an alligator as it swam away from the boat. He flicked his hand in front of his face to ward off the ever-present flies and mosquitoes. A slight, warm breeze rustled through the ancient, twisted trees that shrouded the water on either side.

The bayou was whispering; whispering words that no living man understood.

As he pushed the small boat under a moss-laden cypress, branches clutched at his arms and tore at his linen shirt. A cottonmouth, angry at the intrusion, dropped into his boat from one of the branches above.

Without panic, the young man calmly used his long pole to flip the hissing snake back into the water.

"You won't take me Old Woman," he rasped, "not while I'm still breathing."

A web of rotting vegetation bubbled up underneath him and the pirogue shuddered to a stop. He struggled against the obstruction and pushed hard with the pole, but the snag held fast. Wearily, the young man knelt down and submerged his arm to clear the weed away and free the boat.

Suddenly, something slimy grasped his hand under the water. With a yell, the young man yanked backwards, but the grip was like iron. Before he could pull free, a rotting hand burst from the murky, fetid water and took his arm. Another arm appeared and grabbed his shoulder. Dirty, broken fingernails dug into his flesh and made him scream in agony and mortal fear.

The air grew thick with a yellow, churning mist that bubbled up from the swamp. The young man coughed, his eyes streaming. The mist choked his lungs and seemed to drain him of all his strength. His eyes rolled up and at last he collapsed with a groan.

The slimy hands pulled him into the water. His body floated on the surface of the swamp for a moment and then was dragged under. The small boat rocked a final time and then floated free, alone….

The bayou resumed her death-watch.

**1.**

Amy Price shifted uncomfortably in her seat. It seemed no matter which way she sat, something dug into her back, or her side, or her neck. This was, she reflected irritably, not one of her better ideas.

The inside of the shuttle bus was stiflingly hot without any type of air conditioning at all. The driver, whose name Amy dimly recalled was Otis, had opened a window earlier but the blast of humid, foul smelling swamp air had been far, far worse. The motion of the bus was making Amy feel sick as well. That or the last few tequilas she had drunk in the bar last night anyway.

Amy opened one bleary eye and looked out of the window, flinching at the bright Louisiana sunshine. They were still heading down Route 1 by the look of things. She glanced at her watch. They had been driving south from New Orleans for just over an hour now. Amy licked her dry lips. She should've stayed in bed.

"You awake honey?"

The voice was female and came from a woman who sat across the aisle.

Amy opened her other eye and looked blearily at a large American lady who was dressed in a Disneyland shirt and too-tight shorts. "Unfortunately yes," she muttered.

"You're lookin' a little peaky honey. Are you okay?"

Amy sat up and stretched her aching back, pushing against the seatbelt. "I've had better days," she replied, summoning up a smile. "How long before we get there now?"

The woman picked up a guidebook from the empty seat next to her and peered out of the window at the road-signs that sped past. "Reckon it can't be more than another half hour." The woman rummaged in her belt pack. "You want some gum?"

Amy nodded, running her fingers through her dark brown–red hair. "Please."

"Name's Annie," said the woman as she passed Amy a stick of gum. "You English?"

Amy nodded. "Yup. London born and bred."

"You here on vacation?"

"That's right." Amy was rapidly becoming bored of the conversation and picked up a leaflet that had been stuffed in a pouch on the back of the seat in front of her. "Visit Galliano – Historic Town and Gateway to the Bayous" she read aloud as she rubbed her eyes and blinked rapidly.

"I'm on my own too honey," continued Annie, oblivious, "so we could always –".

A figure suddenly popped up from the seat in front of Amy and she jumped back in surprise at the sight of a grinning skull face. Then the little boy took off the mask and laughed at her. Amy shot him a filthy look as his mother called for him to sit back down.

Suddenly there was a scream from the front of the bus.

Tyres squealed as the bus swerved.

Amy felt her body thrown against her seat belt as the bus toppled over and everything went black.

**2.**

"Hello Amy."

Amy's eyes flickered open to see a rotating fan mounted on the ceiling. She was lying flat on a bed, tucked under crisp, neat linen sheets. "Where am I?" she managed to croak, her throat parched.

"You're safe."

Amy turned her head slowly to the sound of the man's voice but stopped suddenly as her head started to throb with pain. "Ow, God that hurts!" She realised that part of her head was covered in a padded bandage and her breath started to come in gasps of panic.

"Hey, take it easy."

The figure of a young man came into Amy's view. He reached over and adjusted the bandage.

"But I'm hurt! Am I gonna be-"

"You're going to be fine," the young man reassured her. "Here," he reached across and poured a glass of water from a jug. "Take a sip."

The man helped Amy sit up and she took a slow sip from the glass. It made her cough but it tasted so good – like the best champagne – and Amy sipped some more to soothe her cracked throat.

"There you go," grinned the young man.

Amy raised her hand and rubbed gently at the bandage over her left temple. It felt sore and tender. She lifted a tentative eyebrow and winced at the pain that lanced through her head.

"Don't worry – pain's good. Reminds us we're still alive."

"That's easy for you to say," replied Amy testily. She glanced at the man who stood next to her.

He was in his mid to late thirties, with a long face and spiked brown hair. Quite dishy, thought Amy (who sized up men in seconds almost automatically), but he didn't do it for her. Too skinny for one thing – he could do with a few good steaks inside him – and there was just a hint of geek. But he did have nice eyes. They were unusually…..well, just unusual. The man was dressed in a crumpled brown pinstriped suit with a grey shirt beneath. A dark, stringy tie completed the ensemble.

"Who are you anyway?" she grumbled.

"I'm the Doctor," the man said with a grin.

Amy gasped. "I'm in hospital?"

"No," the Doctor shook his head, "there aren't any in Galliano – town's too small. This is the best hotel though."

"Oh my God," Amy stammered as she started to remember what had happened. "We were in a crash! Where are the other people?"

The Doctor glanced down at the floor for a moment before looking at her again. "They're in the local morgue Amy. They all died. You're the only one who survived."

**3.**

Amy just stared at the Doctor. Her mouth moved wordlessly as she struggled to comprehend. All those poor people - the little boy, the driver and that overweight woman. What was her name? Guilt crashed over Amy like a wave as she remembered dismissing her kindness. "Annie…….." she whispered to herself.

"Was that your friend?" asked the Doctor gently.

Amy ignored his question for a few moments and then shook her head. "No…..she was just sitting by me."

"So you were alone?"

Amy nodded and then frowned. "Hey, what is this - some kind of interrogation? How do you know my name anyway?"

The Doctor reached out to a bedside table and held up her passport. "The police found it on you."

"At least that's one bit of good news."

"They're going to want to talk to you."

Amy shrugged. "There's not much I can tell them. We just crashed."

The Doctor bit his lip in thought and then nodded, putting Amy's passport back on the bedside table. "Okay, well, take care Amy Price. My advice would be to get back to New Orleans and fly home as quickly as possible."

"What do you mean?" Amy felt her temper flaring. "What kind of Doctor are you anyway? Aren't you going to prescribe any pills or anything?"

The Doctor shook his head. "I'm not that kind of Doctor. Anyway…." He started backing towards the door.

"Whoa, hang on." Amy sat forwards suspiciously. "Your accent is British. What's your name again?"

The Doctor sighed. "I told you – I'm the Doctor."

"Yeah but Doctor who?"

"Just 'the Doctor' is fine."

"Okay 'Doctor' then," Amy held up her fingers to make invisible sarcastic quotation marks. "Why are you acting so bloody mysterious?" She tried to swing her legs out of bed but suddenly her head started to throb and she reached out, clutching at the bedside table to fend off the dizziness.

"Alright, alright." The Doctor dashed back across the room and eased her back into bed. "Not too fast!" He sighed again but smiled at Amy's hard stare. "Oh, I can see you're going to be trouble Amy Price."

Amy just glared at him. "What's going on?" She said the words slowly, emphasising each one.

The Doctor leant forwards. "You were unconscious for nearly twenty four hours," he explained. "And in that time, two of the bodies from the crash have gone missing from the morgue!"

**4.**

"Yeah, you tell 'em Mae. I've had police, newspapers and the TV stations callin' me up non-stop since las' night. If they wanna talk again, those media people are gonna pay through the nose. Now I'll see you later, y'hear?" Maurice Dumont plonked the phone back on the receiver and took a long drag of his cheap cigar. Then he leant back on the small chair, put his alligator shoes up on the desk, and tapped ash onto the floor.

Maurice Dumont – or 'Big Mo' as he was known around the town of Galliano – had worked in the morgue for over fifteen years. He enjoyed the job too as he liked the quiet life. As he entered his forties however, the 'quiet life' had seen Big Mo get a lot bigger. His usual cream suit was getting a lot tighter around his waist and his face was often flushed and sweaty.

A sudden knock on the door made him jump, startling Mo from his reverie of making a fortune appearing on national television. He stubbed out his cigar and straightened his short tie. "At least," he said to himself with a nervous smile, "that's from the outside." He glanced to the other inner door to his office – the one that led to the morgue and all the bodies it held. "Hang on folks, I'm comin."

Mo opened the door to what seemed to be the middle of an argument.

"You shouldn't have come," insisted a man in a brown suit. "You need to rest Amy."

"Fat chance," returned a scowling dark haired young woman who wore a bandaged pad on her temple. "You're not getting rid of me so easily buster."

Mo cleared his throat and the man in the brown suit turned to him, a huge grin on his face. "Ah hello, I'm the Doctor and this is Amy Price." He held up a small leather wallet with a piece of paper in it. "We're from the New Orleans Times."

Amy looked between the paper and the Doctor, her face screwed up in disbelief. "What?"

The Doctor just shushed her and grinned at Mo again.

Now it was Mo's turn to frown. "I've just been talkin' to you fellas on the phone……"

"Oh did you?" asked the Doctor innocently, squeezing past Mo's bulky frame and into the office. "Yes that must've been my boss. We were in the area and thought we'd just….you know….have a poke about?"

"You gonna pay mister?"

"Oh yes, absolutely – top dollar. Just ask my…..boss. Now mister….."

Mo smiled at the promise of cash. "People round here call me Big Mo."

"Well then Big Mo," continued the Doctor with an eager smile. "Tell us what happened last night?"

**5.**

"Well, I don't know who it was that got in here and took our poor departed friends from New Orleans," Mo said with a wink, exhaling foul smelling cigar smoke that made Amy blanch and close her eyes. "And I don't know what it was they had in mind. Truth is, I'd just like to know how they got in here first." He started towards a small inner door and motioned the Doctor and Amy to follow. "C'mon back here to my work room where the folks are laid out an' I'll show you."

Amy raised her eyebrows and shook her head quickly. "I'll stay right here," she stammered.

The Doctor nodded and smiled reassuringly as Mo opened the door.

Amy retched at the overpowering smell of formaldehyde that drifted out before the Doctor stepped through and closed it behind him.

In the back room, the Doctor saw three more corpses - all covered in sheets and laid out on tables. A series of nine hatches, in a three by three square, were set into one wall and against another was a large sink and work area. Only one more set of double fire-doors led from the room, clearly where the ambulance or hearse would pull up to deliver or receive the bodies.

"I'd better get these three back in storage," muttered Mo, pushing a trolley from where it rested against a wall. "Those doors over there were wide open," he continued, pointing to the fire doors. "And they only open from the inside."

"No sign of a break in?" asked the Doctor, examining the fire doors.

"No sir, not a thing." Mo opened one of the hatches, loaded one of the bodies onto the trolley and then pushed the top stretcher inside. "I reckon whoever opened them doors must've used magic 'cos dead bodies just can't get up an' walk out, right?"

The Doctor just looked at Mo for a second. "Are these the three that are left from the crash?"

Mo nodded. "Yup."

"How did they die?"

"Various impact traumas, poor devils. The police boys said the bus was lil' more than a wreck." Mo hoisted another of the bodies onto the trolley and wheeled it next to another hatch.

Out of morbid curiosity, the Doctor lifted the sheet from the body as he did so and winced at what he saw. He draped the sheet back over as Mo pushed it into the hatch. The Doctor wandered over to the last body and lifted the sheet revealing the corpse of a young black man. The Doctor was about to replace the sheet when he frowned. "Mo, who's this?"

"The driver I think."

"Killed the same way?"

"I guess."

"Then why," the Doctor pulled back the sheet to reveal the lower half of the corpse, "is he missing both his hands. Look!" He pointed to the body.

Both hands had been severed neatly at the wrists.

**6.**

Amy paced up and down the small office.

Clearly the morgue also functioned as a funeral home for Galliano as there were shelves of small urns on display along one wall. In another corner were small headstones with photographs of other designs next to them. Amy peered at the various messages that could be put on the stone or urn and shivered.

She absent-mindedly rubbed at the pad on her forehead and counted her blessings that she was alive at all.

As she turned, Amy glanced out of a window and gave gasped in shock.

Standing outside the morgue, not more than five feet from the building, was an old black woman. She was standing completely still and just staring at Amy. But it was the hard, foreboding expression on her face that made Amy's blood turn to ice. It felt like the old crone was staring into her soul.

Amy took a step backwards just as the inner door to the morgue opened and the Doctor emerged, followed by Big Mo.

"And you're saying this has happened before?" asked the Doctor.

Big Mo held up his hands. "Hey, you know what folks are like round these parts – with the voodoo an' all."

"Voodoo?" exclaimed Amy.

The Doctor rolled his eyes. "No, no I don't. When did it happen? How many times?"

"I don't know," Mo shrugged. "It was a while ago mind – 'fore I got here that's for certain. Nothing's gone missin' on my watch!" he snorted.

"Alright, thanks Mo – you've been brilliant. I'll put in a word to my, uh, bosses – they'll see you okay."

Mo grinned and reached down to his desk before lighting up another cigar. "Much obliged!"

The Doctor turned to Amy. "Come on."

"Where are we going?" Amy glanced over her shoulder through the window, but there was no sign of the old woman now.

The Doctor opened the main door to the morgue and ushered her out. He waved to Mo and then shut the door once Amy had stepped through. "I think _you_ should go back to bed," he said pointing to the wound on her head. "No point in overdoing it."

"No way!" snorted Amy. "I want to find out what's going on in this creepy place."

"It might get a lot creepier before it's over, believe me," said the Doctor with a grim smile. "Alright then, prove to me you can be useful - where do _you_ think we need to go next?"

Amy glared at the Doctor, but then bit her lip. "To check out when this happened before?" She thought for a moment. "The local paper - they'll have records!"

"Well done," said the Doctor with a small smile "Exactly – the offices of 'The Timbalier Times'"

As the Doctor and Amy walked off down the street, a figure stepped from the shadows behind the morgue.

It was the old woman. Her face was a mask of hate.


	2. Chapter 2

**7**.

The 'Timbalier Times' was ten minutes walk across town. Amy wasn't sure whether it was the wound on her head or the Doctor's frenetic pace, but by the time they arrived at the modern building with its walls of green corrugated metal, she was quite out of breath. She wiped a hand across her brow and glanced at her watch. It was a little after four in the afternoon and cicadas were just starting to warm up.

The front window of the building had been carefully lettered to read 'The Timbalier Times, Voice of the Parish of Lafourche since 1842'. The Doctor pushed the door open and Amy sighed in relief as she stepped into the cool air-conditioned office.

Inside, a young woman with glasses sat behind a desk, tapping away at a laptop. She looked up and smiled, just as the phone next to her on the desk began to ring. "I'll be right with you," she said, reaching for the receiver. "Hello, Timbalier Times…one moment please." She pressed a few buttons on the phone, then hung up and returned her attention to the Doctor and Amy. "Well, how are y'all today? Can I help you?"

The Doctor grinned and held up his psychic paper as Amy rolled her eyes.

********************

Amy stretched her aching back and rubbed irritably at the patch on her forehead. It had started to itch and throb at the same time. She glanced at her watch - it was almost five o'clock.

"Come on Doctor," she said, nudging him. "The reception woman said they closed at five."

The Doctor had utilised all four of the laptops in the small records room. He had slung his long brown coat over one of the chairs and now, with his glasses on, was studying a microfiche machine intently. "No, no, hang on a minute! There, that's the last one." He sat back smugly.

"What have you found?"

"Big Mo at the morgue was right. This has happened before – three times in fact."

Amy sat forward and peered at the articles the Doctor had pulled up on the laptops and the microfiche. "1937, blimey that is old."

"Oy, everything's relative," frowned the Doctor. "Anyway, this was in the next town of Thibodaux. Four bodies stolen with no suspects or motives uncovered." He pushed his chair across to one of the laptops and tapped the screen showing an old, yellowed piece of newsprint. "Then there were the cases in 1879. Twelve corpses disappeared that year. No-one ever identified the thieves, and lawmen couldn't find any motive."

"But we're talking about something that happened over a hundred years ago! They can't be connected."

The Doctor nodded. "Oh they're connected all right." He pointed to another laptop. "Look at that one."

**8.**

Amy looked worriedly at the Doctor then back to the laptop and another old article. This one was from 1903. "Four men hanged, accused of stealing bodies," she read slowly and shivered. "Why?"

"None had any connection with the others and there was no hard evidence that supported the four men's guilt, but……" The Doctor trailed off.

"But what?" whispered Amy.

"Each man claimed that 'Timbalier Tommy' was responsible for the crime and through voodoo magic had made the corpses come to life."

"Voodoo magic? This is nuts!" exclaimed Amy, chewing on a nail. "Who's this 'Tommy' guy anyway?"

"Oh, I checked." The Doctor hauled over the last laptop. "Our 'Timbalier Tommy is quite a celebrity around these parts. Voodoo magic is still practiced in the area – the people still believe in it. And if anything really bad happens they blame 'Timbalier Tommy' – a sort of undead zombie master that can animate corpses and control the walking dead."

Amy swallowed nervously. "Oh you're kidding right?"

The Doctor shrugged. "Depends on your point of view. One planet's necromancer is another's top medic!"

"Planet?" Amy sighed and rubbed her brow. "You are so weird Doctor."

"Anyway," the Doctor continued, "this Timbalier Tommy is supposed to live in the bayou – that's where we have to go to solve this mystery."

Amy's heart leapt into her mouth as there was a sudden hammering on the door.

"Hey, y'all finished in there? I need to lock up."

Amy let out a breath at the sound of the receptionist's voice and then slapped a grinning Doctor on the arm.

******************

"You don't have to do this y'know." Amy muttered to herself as she stuffed a change of clothes into her backpack.

The Doctor had walked her back to the hotel, all the time trying to persuade her that she was safer staying in Galliano, but Amy had stubbornly refused. Now whilst she was packing, he had gone off to try and find out some more information about how the bayou was laid out.

Amy looked at her reflection in the long mirror on the wall of the room and sighed. "Yes I do Price. Got to find out what happened on that bus. You owe it to those poor ….."

She broke off as she heard the sound of someone moving outside her room. Amy frowned. "Doctor?" she called, but there as no reply. Taking a breath, she walked over and pulled open the door.

Amy screamed in mortal fear, her eyes wide in terror at what she saw.

On the shadowy landing outside her room was a severed human hand, balanced upright on the remains of the wrist. Its fingers were splayed outwards and each one was burning with an oily flame.

**9.**

"It is a warning."

There was a creak from the stairs as a figure stepped onto the landing. A tall black man, completely bald and in his mid twenties, regarded Amy carefully. The flames from the burning hand reflected eerily in his dark eyes.

Amy took a step back into her room. "Who the Hell are you?" she managed to stammer, the icy chill of fear in her heart.

"My name is Emil." The man took a step towards her. He was dressed in a loose blue cotton shirt and cut-off jeans that ended at the knee.

"Don't come any closer!" She automatically widened her stance and braced herself to throw him if he came any nearer. She hadn't gone to a judo class in ages – but she still held a black belt.

"It's all right, I won't hurt you. You are Amy, yes?" the man asked. "The Doctor sent me."

Amy looked past Emil and down the stairs. "The Doctor?" she croaked. "Where is he?"

"Finding us a boat." Emil took another step closer and picked up the severed hand, a look of both disgust and fear on his face. He opened a window on the landing and threw the hand as far as he could into the shadowy trees behind the hotel. He turned back to Amy and smiled revealing perfect white teeth. "There. You are safe now. Come with me, yes?"

Amy stared at Emil and nodded slowly. She licked her parched lips as she looked at him for a moment and Emil smiled again. Amy couldn't see any malice in his face so she picked up her rucksack from the bed and then walked out of the room to stand next to him, closing the door behind her.

Amy pointed a commanding finger at Emil. "The Doctor – now."

Emil nodded and started back down the stairs.

A sudden thought struck Amy as she followed him. "You said that….thing was a warning."

Emil nodded, an unreadable expression on his face.

"Who from?"

Emil paused and then turned to look at Amy. "From Mama," he said sadly. "The madness has taken her again."

****************

The sun hung low in the sky, turning the water of the bayou that surrounded the landing dock a blood red.

The Doctor finished loading a cloth bag of supplies – rope, lanterns and some food - he had bought from the rental shack onto the small boat that bobbed up and down in the water.

He turned and grinned as the two figures approached. "He found you then?" he called.

Amy glared at the Doctor. "Yeah, damn well nearly gave me heart failure too!"

Emil said nothing but jumped into the little boat, grabbing a long pole from where it rested against the landing dock. "We must hurry," he said to the Doctor. "It will be dark soon."

"Where are we going?" whispered Amy.

The Doctor helped her into the boat and then stepped down next to her. "Emil is taking us to Mama Regina – a voodoo woman. We're going into the swamp."

**10.**

Emil pointed to an unpainted wooden house ahead. "That's it," he said. "She'll be waitin' inside. Mama always knows when I'm coming."

The dwelling rose out of the swamp like a gnarled tree stump, covered with moss and damp weed. Five foot stilts supported the house itself, keeping the murky swamp water and its creatures from taking up residence inside.

They had been travelling for close to an hour. Emil's strong, confident poling of the boat pushed them smoothly through the swamp at a fair speed, much to Amy's relief. Now night was about to fall, and only a flicker of light shone in Mama Regina's windows. Shadowy, doll-like figures stood like small sentinels in the windowsills, keeping watch on the outside world.

The boat moved silently forward until it bumped with a dull thud against a piling beneath the house. Emil leant over and secured a mooring rope. "Follow me," he whispered, climbing up a few small boards that were nailed horizontally to the piling and to form a crude ladder.

Amy glanced at the Doctor who smiled reassuringly and nodded. He stood up and hopped off the boat, reaching back so that Amy could grab his hand, and then climbed up after Emil.

"You'd better let me talk first," Emil added, "Mama doesn't take much to strangers." He paused. "And we gotta hope the madness don' take her."

Amy frowned. "You said that before, what do you…."

But before Emil could answer, there came a female chuckle from inside the house that made Amy jump. "Come on in Emil, and since you brought 'em, those other folks can come on in too."

The Doctor raised an eyebrow but said nothing as Emil pushed open the creaky door and they stepped inside.

The house was dimly lit with a kerosene lamp and five or six stubby candles. The dwelling had three areas – a living area at the front, a kitchen at the back and another area off to one side that was shielded by a plastic curtain. Amy wrinkled her nose and fought the impulse to gag at the smell of herbs and incense that were heavy in the house.

Small idols and shrines filled the room. A few pieces depicted familiar religious symbols but most were small paintings and figurines showing strange, primitive figures, some of them animals. A striking figure of a hairless, winged angel with tattooed skin sat on a small table near the door.

A very old, steely black woman sat in the corner of the room, rocking in a chair. Her eyes were fixed on the Doctor. Shadows covered most of her face but as she rocked, her ebony eyes shone clearly.

Amy gasped. It was the woman she saw watching her outside the morgue.

"Y'all come in and make yourselves at home," the old woman said, her voice old as dust, yet still clear and strong. "I'm Mama Regina. You must be the ones trackin' Timbalier Tommy. I knew you were comin'."

**11.**

The Doctor watched the old woman carefully. "That's clever."

Mama Regina just laughed. "Honey, that's as clear as can be. Tommy's been busy lately and you've just come into town." Her eyes narrowed as she studied the Doctor. "Not like the poor girl here, you just appeared." She took a breath through her nose. "You've got power Doctor - I can smell it on you."

Amy looked at the Doctor who just shrugged. "Can you tell us what you know?" he asked.

Mama Regina's voice was deep and sombre, belying her small size. "Timbalier Tommy used to be a Cajun, a long, long time ago. He used to go into the bayou for gator hide and stuff. One day he was found dead on the edge of the swamp, just as pale and white as can be with no hands and no feet and with this strange animal skull over his head. Only his head weren't there no more." She paused and leant forward in her chair. "They reckon that thieves had killed him for his money, but I think he found something in the bayou that day."

"Or something found him," muttered the Doctor, his chin resting on his hands.

"Thing is," Mama continued, "when folks went to bury him, they say Tommy leapt up and ran away through the swamp, splashing through the water like a chicken with no head. Nobody saw him after that. He became nzambi - part of the livin' dead. A few of us 'round here understand that, and we know he's come back times after to take hold of our deceased, forcing them to rise up with him."

"He just walks into town?" said Amy.

Mama Regina chuckled. "Honey, Tommy's a lot cleverer than that. They say he can change himself into a fly and go wherever he pleases, do whatever he wants."

"A fly huh? Perhaps we should tell him to buzz off?" The Doctor smiled as Amy groaned then his face became serious again. "And what about you?" he asked Mama. "You're not telling us something?"

Mama Regina looked away and got slowly to her feet. "I'll get you some stew, you'll be needin' it."

Emil had watched the conversation between the Doctor and Mama Regina carefully. "Tell him Mama," he piped up. "Tell them about the madness."

Mama Regina scowled. "Why? He don' want to hear 'bout that."

"Anything could be important," said the Doctor quickly, "please?"

Mama sighed. "I was just a lil girl the first time, 'bout seven years old. I lived in Thibodaux with my pappy. When Tommy came callin', I could see it. Didn't know what was happenin' to me. My pappy had to tie me down or I'd have killed him."

"Telepathic connection – fascinating," said the Doctor. "A temporary control of some kind…."

Amy struggled to understand where the conversation was heading. "So this zombie thing can control her?"

The Doctor nodded. "For a short time."

Amy jumped to her feet. "Then how do we know he's not doing it right now?"

**12.**

The Doctor shook his head. "Oh, I think we'd know." He looked at Mama Regina who was busying herself at a pan on the old stove. "You don't remember what happens do you?"

Mama had her back to the Doctor and just shook her head. "It's like a blackness takes me – but I know it's Tommy."

"How often does this happen?"

Mama turned around and there was fear in her eyes. "Every time he wakes up."

"And it's been happening recently hasn't it?"

Mama nodded. "He's hungry again."

*****************

Amy turned over on her other side to ease her aching shoulder. The bedroll that Mama had given her was only thin, and the floor was hard beneath her. She hit the musty cushion under her head, trying to get it more comfortable but without success. With a sigh, Amy opened her eyes to see the few candles that lit the room had burnt down almost completely. She must have dropped off after all. It had taken her long enough. She had argued against staying here at all until the Doctor had pointed out that travelling through the swamp at the dead of night was hardly the most sensible thing to do. If they were going deeper into the bayou to find Timbalier Tommy, best do it in the morning.

Amy licked her lips. There was a strange taste in her mouth – probably the stew that Mama had given them. She hadn't (for once) pressed the old woman to find out what was in it, although her imagination worked overtime. Still, it tasted like chicken….

Amy craned her neck to see the silhouette of the Doctor sitting astride one of the chairs, his chin in his hands and clearly awake. Emil sat snoring in one of the other chairs. Mama Regina had retired behind the plastic curtain after drawing them a crude map of where she thought they could look for Tommy.

"You awake?" The Doctor had heard her moving.

Amy nodded. "What time is it?" she asked as she glanced at her watch, angling it towards the flickering light of the nearest candle. "Just after four."

"It'll be time to leave soon," the Doctor whispered.

Suddenly Amy heard a strange buzzing sound coming from behind the plastic curtain and sat up. "What was that?"

The Doctor had heard it too and his face was unreadable in the shadows. He got to his feet and motioned for Amy to stay back. Then he walked slowly across the room and snatched back the curtain.

Standing behind it was Mama Regina, her eyes glowing with an unearthly light. She opened her mouth and let out a terrible wail as suddenly the air behind her was thick with swarming insects.

**13.**

Amy screamed at the terrifying sight of the possessed woman. Behind her, Emil leapt to his feet. "Get back," he shouted, "the madness has taken her!"

The insects erupted into the room, trying to engulf them all, but the Doctor whipped out his sonic screwdriver and pointed it upwards. The tip glowed a brilliant blue in the shadowy house as it emitted a pulsating whine.

Amy screwed up her eyes in pain, throwing her hands over her ears, as did Emil. The effect on the insects was far more severe however. Rather than swarming towards them in a deadly cloud, they immediately dispersed and shot from the room, disappearing into the swamp air.

Mama Regina screamed too, but not in fear. Her face was contorted with fury. With fingers twisted into talons, she flew at the Doctor.

The Doctor didn't flinch but just adjusted his screwdriver to another setting. The whine rose in pitch until Amy thought her eardrums would burst.

Mama Regina screamed again, this time in pain, and with a snarl she collapsed to the ground. As she did so, and just for a moment, her entire head was replaced by the immense, bleached white skull of a creature that just wasn't human. Then the skull faded into nothingness leaving a harmless old woman lying unmoving on the floor of the hut.

"Quickly," ordered the Doctor, "get her some water." He scooped up Mama like a rag doll and carried her over to her small bed. Putting her down, he felt her brow. She was burning hot.

Emil grabbed a chipped cup and poured some water into it before handing it to the Doctor.

The Doctor cradled the old woman in his arm and gently gave her a sip. Mama started to moan a little, her eyelids fluttering. "She'll be alright," said the Doctor, although his face was creased with worry, "the contact's been broken." He sat back. "I think it's safe to assume it knows we're coming."

"What was that thing?" gasped Amy, her heart still pounding.

The Doctor put down the cup and laid Mama Regina down gently onto the bed. He turned to Emil. "We'd better get going."

Emil nodded silently and started to pack his rucksack.

"Doctor," warned Amy, "I said, what was it? This 'Timbalier Tommy'?"

The Doctor looked at her and nodded. "But this isn't a voodoo zombie master."

"Then what was it?"

"That skull was alien."

"Alien?" Amy frowned. It all sounded so bizarre. First voodoo, now aliens. "You mean from space?"

The Doctor nodded. "I've met them before. That was the skull of a Sycorax!"


	3. Chapter 3

**14.**

The air was sweltering and thick beneath the heavy cover of the swamp, heated by an early morning Southern sun. But the light didn't penetrate the canopy; it simply warmed the soggy area beneath.

Amy's clothing was soon drenched by the humidity and her own sweat, clinging to her body like a sopping wet rag.

Emil continued to pole steadily through the murky water, struggling across shallow areas where the boat dragged slightly or caught against a log below the surface. Spanish moss hung down from every conceivable location, trailing across the boat. Birds called out from the distance but it seemed to Amy that they were no longer all around, but only behind. Ahead the swamp was strangely silent.

A loud plop sounded near the boat and made Amy jump. She watched the small ripples in the black surface of the water.

"Those are cottonmouths," said Emil. "They drop from the trees when we pass too close."

Amy just shivered nervously and glanced at the Doctor. He sat silently, lost in thought, but his eyes scanned the area intently, piercing the tangled vegetation.

Emil scanned the water and nodded when he saw something. "Keep an eye out for gators too."

If it weren't for their guide's bony finger pointing the way, Amy wouldn't even notice the dark shape ahead that lay close to the water. Two eyes and the tip of a snout rose above the murky surface, the rest of the alligator hidden below. The reptile kept a close eye on the boat, its eyes never blinking, its head not moving an inch.

*****************

It was another hour before Emil spoke again. "According to the map Mama showed us," he muttered, "Tommy's island should be right through here." Amy noticed the strain in Emil's normally placid voice as he continued to pole the boat. It was more difficult here as the trees were closer together.

"Then either we find him," agreed the Doctor darkly, "or he finds us."

Without warning, the boat struck something underwater, throwing them all forwards. Emil drew in a breath. "Must've hit something in the mud – loosened it up too."

About two feet to the right of the boat, the brackish water began to bubble. Amy bit her lip as a man's corpse bobbed to the surface, face down in the water.

The Doctor peered down at the corpse. The back of its head caved inwards as if crushed.

"Oh my God, did we hit him?" gasped Amy.

The Doctor nodded. "But he was already dead." He pointed to the pale, flabby skin of the corpse. "He's been in the water for some time."

"It's Pablo," whispered Emil hoarsely. "We were friends since school. I …"

Suddenly the boat rocked fiercely from side to side. Amy yelled in fear as two slimy arms erupted from the beneath the dark waters of the swamp and grabbed her hand.

**15.**

The Doctor jumped across the boat and tugged one arm away from Amy, but another shot from the swamp and gripped his wrist. He pulled backwards with a yell and lost his footing, crashing down into the boat which rocked precariously.

With a cry, Amy picked up a heavy torch from her rucksack and started to club the hand and arm that was tugging at her. She could hear the bones crack on the impacts and yet still the arm held her in a vice-like grip, pulling her towards the water. Amy screamed as she glimpsed pale eyes and a lolling head beneath the waters and renewed her efforts, beating the hand to a pulp.

"They're all around us!" shouted Emil as more bodies started to rise from the murky blackness. He thrust the pole through the chest of one zombie that flailed forwards. The ribs splintered and the pole went completely through the body, impaling it like a spear.

There were now half a dozen corpses around the little boat and trying to topple it into the swamp.

The Doctor sat up from the bottom of the boat. His fall had left him a little dazed, but he knew instantly what the final outcome of the struggle would be. "Jump for it!" he shouted as he got to his feet and looked around. He tore Amy away from the zombie that was trying to haul itself into the boat, lashing out with a foot. He caught the creature on the shoulder, pushing it back into the swamp with a heavy splash.

"Are you mad?" yelled Amy. "They're in the water, we won't stand a chance!"

"If we stay here we'll end up dead – or wore!" returned the Doctor, pointing to the right. "There's some dry land over that way." Without waiting for an argument, he pushed her over the side, away from the creatures.

Amy screamed as she hit the swamp but found it only came up to her waist. Taking a breath she started wading through the dark and slimy water in the direction the Doctor had pointed.

Meanwhile, Emil had thrust his pole backwards and forwards, knocking the zombies off balance before they could get a firm grip on the boat. "Go!" he shouted at the Doctor.

The Doctor nodded as he picked up Amy's rucksack and swung it around, catching another zombie on the side as it stepped onto the boat. The impact sent the creature flying off the boat and back into the swamp. Then the Doctor turned and leapt as far as he could towards Amy.

Emil didn't waste any time, struck another zombie in the chest with the pole, and jumped after the Doctor.

Amy had now reached the dry bank of land and had dragged herself onto it, her heart pounding. She glanced backwards to see the Doctor and Emil thrashing through the water towards her.

The two men reached the bank in seconds, both gasping and spluttering. The Doctor turned around to see the small boat vanish beneath the black surface of the swamp.

**16.**

"At least they didn't follow us," said the Doctor after a few seconds. All that was left of the boat were some bubbles on the surface of the swamp. The sudden silence was deafening.

Amy wiped her sweat-drenched face with the back of her hand. "But how are we going to get back?"

"Let's cross one bridge at a..." the Doctor began but suddenly let out a howl of pain. He rolled up his trouser leg to reveal a fat leech stuck to his calf.

Like lightning, Emil reached into his shirt pocket and produced a small lighter. He thumbed it on and quickly applied the flame to the leech on the Doctor's leg.

The Doctor screwed up his face in pain, but after only a few seconds Emil grabbed the leech and threw it back into the swamp. "You okay?" he asked.

The Doctor nodded. "Yes, thanks." He rubbed at his calf with a handkerchief, wiping the fresh blood away from where the leech had bitten into the flesh. "I wonder what it thought of Time Lord blood," he muttered, getting to his feet with a wince of pain. He saw Amy looking at him suspiciously. "Oh nothing," he sighed, "time for that later. Come on."

****************

"I still can't believe I volunteered to come with you," grumbled Amy as she picked her way carefully through the tangled vines and dense, sodden undergrowth. She looked at her watch. They had been walking for nearly half an hour.

"Stop moaning," smiled the Doctor. "You could always wait for us……"

Amy said nothing but stuck out her tongue and gave his back a venomous glare. She glanced at Emil. The tall, black man had been virtually silent since they had lost the boat. "What about you Emil? How come you're mixed up with this?"

Emil said nothing for a moment. "Mama Regina cured my Pappy of a fever years ago," he replied eventually, "back when I was nine years old. I saw the madness start to take her and I figured I owed her one. Pablo tried to help and then he got himself killed too……."

"And I'm very glad you're with us," interrupted the Doctor. "We'd never have got this far without you."

Amy shivered and looked around her. Was it her imagination, or was it getting darker? She looked at her watch again – it was only late morning.

Around them, mosquitoes began to swarm in the twilight air, amassing in black, whining clouds. Emil swatted the side of his neck, creating a small streak of blood beneath his hand.

The Doctor scanned the area ahead of them. "Look! Over there!"

The trees about twenty yards ahead parted slightly to frame a small, dilapidated stilt-house. The shack was completely dark and barely visible in the deepening twilight.

"I think we've arrived," whispered the Doctor.

**17.**

"'Creepy' just doesn't begin to describe it," murmured Amy. "I take it we're going in?"

"Oh yes." The Doctor's eyes gleamed with curiosity. "This is definitely where 'Tommy' lives." He ran his fingers through his hair. "But, let's not go through the front door just yet." The Doctor started to walk around the old shack, putting up his hand to indicate for Amy and Emil to stay where they were.

Emil opened his mouth to argue but Amy just shrugged, folding her arms across her chest.

The Doctor came back to them after only a minute. Amy raised her eyebrows expectantly. "There's a pretty big hole in the back wall," said the Doctor to her unspoken question, "like something crashed through it. Long time ago mind, all the vegetation has grown around it and the wood has rotted too." He broke off, his mind racing with possibilities. "I wonder…."

Amy swallowed nervously. "So which way in?"

Before the Doctor could answer, there was a sudden yell from Emil. "Doctor, Amy – get down!" The black man pushed them both to the soft, muddy ground.

The air was suddenly thick with swarms of mosquitoes that droned angrily. Acting almost as if they were a single creature, the mosquitoes flew at Emil and covered his body in a black, crawling mass of insects.

Emil screamed in agony as the mosquitoes bit into his flesh. He staggered about, clawing desperately at the vicious insects as they pierced his flesh again and again.

Amy started to get to her feet but the Doctor held her down and frantically hauled her away, crawling over the sodden earth. "No!" he yelled. "There's nothing we can do Amy!"

"But he's going to be killed!" she sobbed.

Emil's cries and his flailing arms became weaker as the deadly swarm enveloped his body, gorging itself on his blood. With a last, pitiful moan, Emil lurched across to the water's edge and then pitched head first into the murky swamp. As his body hit the water, the swarm dispersed and flew upwards into the trees and the ever-darkening sky.

The Doctor and a petrified Amy got slowly to their feet. "Of course," the Doctor whispered, "it wasn't flies - it was mosquitoes – the blood control…"

Amy was ashen and turned her face into the Doctor's chest. He hugged her tightly to him. "I know," he whispered. "I'm so sorry……" After a moment, his eyes turned from sorrow into boiling anger. "We have to finish this."

The Doctor took Amy by the hand and led her across to the front door of the ruined shack. "Stay here," he told her, "it'll be safer."

Amy shook her head. "Not a chance," she replied thickly. "I'm staying with you."

The Doctor sighed and then nodded. "Alright, just be careful."

Slowly he opened the door.

**18.**

The shack was almost pitch dark inside and Amy rummaged around in her rucksack to find her torch. After a moment she found it and switched it on. The darkness was suddenly banished by the strong beam of light. She felt the Doctor take her hand and they moved slowly forwards.

The shack was just a single rectangular room, wider rather than long. As the Doctor flashed the torch around, Amy could see that the wooden flooring had been smashed by something that resembled a large rock. The hole in the wall that the Doctor had noticed earlier and that was now obscured by vines and creepers lay behind it.

Amy gagged at the stench of rotting flesh and put her hand over her mouth. "It reeks in here."

"The smell of death," agreed the Doctor.

Then the torch beam hit something that stood next to the rock, seemingly leaning against the back wall.

Amy gasped and squeezed the Doctor's hand as she saw the figure. It was the decaying body of a man, dressed in torn, dirty rags. His top lip had rotted away to expose a row of jagged, deep brown teeth. A snake had crawled around the dead man's neck and watched them silently, its long tongue flicking outwards.

"That could be our 'Timbalier Tommy' Amy," whispered the Doctor.

Amy felt the cold sweat trickle down her back and fought to suppress her panic. "But how can that… thing control Mama Regina, and the flies and everything?"

"I think the answer could be in there." The Doctor flashed his torch over to the boulder.

"What, that rock?"

"It's not a rock – it's a Sycorax escape module." Ignoring Amy's blank look the Doctor crept closer, keeping a careful eye on the decaying corpse next to it. "Look in here."

Amy looked at where the Doctor was playing the torch. Part of the boulder had peeled away, like a hatch or cover. She peered into the cavity and gulped. Inside was another body, but not of a man. It was a skeleton of a creature dressed in torn red robes. The head of the creature was the large, elongated skull that had appeared on Mama Regina when she had attacked them. To her surprise, the creature held something in one of its bony claws that pulsed a deep red. "Is that a….Sycorax?" she whispered.

But before the Doctor could reply, the door to the shack was smashed open.

Standing in the doorway was Emil, his face and body covered in the red welts of mosquito bites, and his eyes glowing with an eerie light.

**19.**

"But he's dead!" cried Amy as the corpse of their former friend staggered towards them.

"It's been animated by the Sycorax," shouted the Doctor. "Quick, we have to get the…" He reached out into the capsule but jumped back as the rotting corpse next to it lurched forwards. The decaying teeth were twisted into an evil leer. "Too late – it's done that one too!"

Amy held tightly onto the Doctor's hand as they slowly backed away. Amy glanced behind them. To her relief there were no hidden dangers, but they were being herded into a corner. "Doctor, we're trapped!"

"I know, I know," he cried. "Amy, you've got to get the blood control module."

"The what?"

"The device in the Sycroax's hand. It's what's animating them."

Without waiting for an answer, the Doctor threw himself forwards, grappling with the long-dead corpse.

Amy watched him in horror. The thing didn't just look terrifying, it was strong too and its bony fingers had clamped around the Doctor's arms, pinning them to his sides. The creature that used to be Emil advanced towards her, but then paused and also grabbed the Doctor. Slimy, wet hands reached up for his throat.

"Amy – the blood control device!" the Doctor shouted hoarsely.

But Amy was frozen with terror – her legs were rooted to the ground. "Doctor…"

"Amy please…" The Doctor's voice was cut off as Emil's dead hands began squeeze his neck.

Taking a deep breath, Amy jumped forwards and scooped up the still-pulsing globe from within the Sycorax escape module. The bony claws of the dead alien seemed to clutch at her hand, but she was too quick to be caught. "What now?" she shouted.

Using every last piece of strength left, the Doctor managed to pull one of Emil's hands from his throat. "Smash it!"

Amy lifted the crystalline globe high above her head. The energy that emanated from it seemed to grow in intensity so that it illuminated the entire filthy shack in a blood-red light.

Both Emil and the other corpse instantly released the Doctor and turned towards Amy. Rotting hands reached out to grab her

Amy threw the globe against the rocky Sycorax escape module as hard as she could. Fragments of glass splintered in all directions and the red light faded immediately leaving the shack in darkness. Emil and the other creature froze, their clawed hands still stretched towards her. Then they slowly toppled forwards to the ground. As they hit the rotten wooden floor, the corpses began to dissolve into a slimy puddle, leaving only bone until that too liquefied and dripped through the slats in the floor and into the swamp beneath.

The Doctor scrambled over and held a sobbing Amy. "It's over," he said softly. "You did it Amy Price."

**20.**

"Okay, I will. Yeah." Amy rolled her eyes impatiently. "Yeah, sure. Bye Mum." She flipped down the top of her mobile phone and stashed it back in her denim jacket. At least now that they were back in New Orleans she could get a proper signal out. Well, at least she could now the Doctor had done something weird to her phone. Whatever he had done though, it had certainly improved it.

Amy walked back from the bar area of the restaurant, passed the small jazz quartet that were playing in the corner, until she reached their table.

The Doctor looked up from a huge pile of stripped barbeque ribs on his plate. "Everything alright?" he asked, wiping the sticky brown sauce from his mouth and chin.

Amy nodded. "Yeah fine. My mother – fuss Champion of Britain, as usual!" She took a sip of her beer.

The Doctor grinned and picked up a huge blue cocktail that was decorated with every imaginable piece of fruit. He slurped some through a straw. "That was brilliant!"

Amy noticed a brown piece of parchment that was next to the Doctor. "What's that?"

The Doctor put down his cocktail. "I found it in the shack after….after everything was over." He pushed it towards her. "Take a look."

Amy picked up the parchment and started reading. It was a scrap of diary. "Eighteen seventy eight," she breathed. "This is…" she trailed off as she read more. Then she checked the name at the bottom of the paper. "Thomas Sanchez. Oh my God, this is the diary of that thing in the shack!"

"That 'thing'," frowned the Doctor, "was a man. Thomas Sanchez – the original 'Timbalier Tommy'."

Amy put down the parchment and rubbed her forehead. She had taken off the bandage now and all that remained of her injury was a yellowish bruise. "I can't believe what's happened to us Doctor. It was all so weird. You're so weird!"

The Doctor picked up his cocktail again and grinned. "Want it to become a lot weirder?"

********************

"What's that box?" Amy pointed suspiciously to the blue box that stood innocuously on the corner of the quiet New Orleans street.

The Doctor strolled towards the TARDIS and leant casually against it. "It's my TARDIS."

Amy raised her eyebrows. "More weirdness. Okay, and what's a 'TARDIS'?"

"It stands for 'Time And Relative Dimension In Space'," grinned the Doctor. "It's my time machine."

"Time machine!" Amy laughed. "Oh, come on Doctor!"

"Oh yeah. I can go anywhere in the universe me."

"You are just impossible."

The Doctor said nothing but just produced a key and opened the door, letting a golden glow escape from within. "Care to take a look?" he said innocently, turning back to her with a mischievous smile on his face.

Amy looked at him for a moment, her frown of disbelief slowly dissolving to match the Doctor's smile.

She walked towards the strange blue box.

_**Next Time**__: The Doctor takes Amy for her first trip in the TARDIS to Victorian London in '__**Dark Secrets'**_

**Nzambi – Confidential**

'Nzambi' probably had the most difficult and shifting genesis of any of my 'TARDIS Adventures' so far.

As I mentioned at the end of 'Astaroth', for a long time this story was to follow 'Port of Blood' and have no companion. I had imagined a semi-regular male character being introduced here (played by Greg Grunberg from 'Heroes' actually!) who would help out the Doctor and be the 'companion of the week', but he would reappear in the final two part story of the season. I also knew I wanted voodoo and zombies and the Louisiana Bayous seemed a perfect location.

I discussed this with another writer and he assured me that this was fine. He could write this one for me.

Ah…

I eventually ended up writing it (although the title was his - Nzambi is a Cajun word for zombie) after I had finished the mid-season two part story that featured Ionay. Since Ionay had worked out as a one-off companion rather than jumping aboard the TARDIS, I decided to do a bit of shuffling the stories around. This story would now come after the Ionay episodes and have to introduce a new companion rather than the Greg Grunberg character.

Enter Amy Price.

This is an occasion where the actress very much determined the character. I had been watching an ITV piece of fluff called 'Lost in Austen', which apart from being stuffed full of Doctor Who actors (Alex Kingston, Florence Hoath, and Christina Coles amongst others), had a rather wonderful lead in the shape of Jemima Rooper. I had never seen or heard of Jemima before (looking at the various websites however, I realise she is no stranger to the medium!), but thought she was just fabulous for a modern, spiky companion who could be witty, brave, and have a good line in put-downs for the Doctor and enemies alike.

And if you want to see the photocall for the new companion, see:-

.

Once I had decided on Amy (and Jemima) as a new companion, the rest of the season started to fall into place although by happy accident, the intended locations for the stories haven't changed at all.

But back to 'Nzambi' and for a long time there was no Sycorax. There was still all the voodoo and zombies, and with swamps having large amounts of gas, for a brief while the Gelth would have made an appearance. Then there was going to be a new enemy in this one and an old enemy in the next story in the shape of a Sontaran. But when I decided that Sycorax blood control was to be behind it all, out he went too!

It's off to Victorian London next, so put on your top hat and order a hansom….


End file.
